


All the colors of darkness

by Vofastudum



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Depression, F/M, Healing, Non-Canonical Character Death, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Post-War, Sad with a Happy Ending, Suicide Attempt, Tearjerker, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:55:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29461605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vofastudum/pseuds/Vofastudum
Summary: Fighting a war at seventeen takes its toll. Everyone has their way of surviving to another day...For her, it’s Him.Post-war AU where Ron died in the final battle.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 11
Kudos: 34





	1. The Darkest Days

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a two-part story.  
> First part's going to be sad and dark.  
> But I'm a sucker for happy endings, hence the second part. 
> 
> Happy reading! Let me know what you think!

**PART 1: The Darkest Days**

478 days

It’s pouring as she closes the door of her office

9 hours

There's water in her shoes.  
The cold rain wets her hair and soaks her clothes.

35 minutes

Cars drive by and splash more water on her.  
Her face is so wet she doesn't even know if there are tears or not.

9 seconds

She opens the door of her apartment

and then she's dripping water on the carpet.  
Looks at herself in the mirror.   
And sees nothing.

He’s gone   
Gone   
Gone

And there's nothing left of her

478days  
9 hours  
40minutes  
and 15seconds

That's how long she has survived without him.

Survived   
Nothing more.

Run-on automatic gear since the final battle.  
Gone to celebration   
To funerals  
To rebuilding

Got an apartment   
And a job in the ministry

Once upon a time she would have aimed higher   
Maybe gone to finish school  
Maybe wanted more than a regular office job

Once upon a time

When he was still here   
When there were still dreams   
When the future was at her reach  
When she didn't have this hole in her soul...

This black void that swallowed everything there was left to feel.

And his name  
Hanging in the air where ever she went.

His name...  
And the future that could have been.

She makes tea and sits on the sofa.   
Her sofa.  
Looks around the apartment.  
Her apartment

That doesn't feel like hers

Nothing feels like hers  
Because she's nothing.

.

.

.

There’s a part of her,  
the rational part;  
That tries to tell her she's so young.  
That there's so much life ahead of her.  
That this is just a phrase

That she shouldn't throw away these opportunities.  
They might be here for only now.

She's a hero

Until time goes by and there’ll be others  
Until this will all be just a page in a history book.

”Ride it when it's fresh,” they say.  
But she was never a hero by herself.

Books and cleverness?   
They didn't help her react faster  
They didn't make her shield stronger  
They didn't aim her wand better  
They didn't prepare her for this pain

She won a war  
And lost everything else

In the blackest days she thinks it would have been better if they had lost.  
At least she’d probably be dead then.  
At least she’d be free from this pain.

And then she beats herself for being so selfish!

If they’d lost,  
she’d probably be dead and gone  
but the rest of the world would suffer.

Those like her would live in a dark dangerous world.  
Children would live in fear

And that's so much worse than her personal pain.  
Isn't it?

.

.

.

They all grieve differently  
All do what they can to cope

But they all seem to have something to keep them afloat.

She looks at them and knows.  
For unquestioning certainty, that their blackness is not as deep  
As all swallowing   
As strong  
As hers

She looks at Harry holding his hand on Ginny's swollen belly   
And knows the future he dreamed about is still there.  
Is still ahead of them

Harry will be happy again  
As will Ginny   
As will Molly and Arthur  
And even George

But her?

Who will take her hand when she's drowning,  
when the person who was supposed to do that is not here?  
When the only thing she has of him is the ghost of their first and last kiss.  
When the only threads of a lifeline are the memory that fades as the days go by.

Soon there’ll be a day she doesn't remember how his slender body felt pressed against her.  
How his big hand felt wrapped around hers.

And there's no one to pick her back up

No one...  
But the invisible weights on her ankles that only pull her deeper.

.

.

.

At ten he knocks on her door.

Three knocks  
Always the same  
She has a doorbell but he never uses it.

She opens the door and meets his dark silvery eyes.

”Granger” he drawls  
Always the same

And she lets him in.   
Lets him undress her  
Lets him touch her   
Kiss her,

but never on the lips,

Lets him take her to bed  
To call her whatever he wants   


Lets him fuck her  
Needy   
And rough   
And all-consuming

Because she hated him  
And Ron hated him

Because being with him makes her feel guilty   
And guilt is a feeling.  
Different than emptiness  
Guilt is something

How pitiful   
That in this black void   
They are the worst enemies, holding each other's safety ropes.

Ron would laugh at the irony

But Ron will never laugh again  
Because Ron...

Just thinking about his name makes her feel like she's going to shatter.

Ron is gone  
Gone   
Gone

Ron left her  
Alone in the darkness

And now He's here...   
And now He's the only one who's able to wake anything in her anymore

And...

After all that has happened   
After everything they’ve been through

She's nothing,  
but so is Draco Malfoy

**Summer -98**

Blank

She's staring ahead, thinking it can't get any worse  
That this is the absolute worst it'll be  
That if she just gets through this day things will eventually work out.

Because what can be worse than burying your best friend?  
Worse than burying the boy - the man, you loved?

If she only knew then it was all just starting to sink in...

Later she thinks she should have seen it coming,  
Should have prepared herself better.

Harry didn't sit next to her that day.  
She didn't sit with the Weasleys,

But Harry did.  
Held Ginny's hand in the front row.  
Ginny's hand,  
But not hers.

Ron had been their best friend.   
They had been a trio   
Until he was gone

In death, he had been Harry’s best friend.  
It was always Harry Potter and Ron Weasley...  
Like she had been nothing.

She didn't cry a tear that day.   
Just stared ahead blankly.

And not once during the reception did Harry come and take her hand.  
Later yes, but not then  
Not when she needed him the most.

That was the first time she realized she was alone.

And she couldn't really blame Harry.  
Because he had gone through much more than any of them. 

But she still did...  
and it made everything so much worse.

.

.

.

**Autumn -98**

Alone  
She stood on a yard in a beautiful Australian neighborhood,  
delusioned to blend in the greenery,  
and stared inside a house.

The woman in the kitchen was in her early forties and heavily pregnant.  
She smiled at a man who sat by the table and seemed to be chatting happily.

They both looked so happy and content.

She watched them from her hiding place and her heart felt heavy.

Because these people were Monica and Wendell Wilkins.  
Monica and Wendell Wilkins were having a child on their old days.

A child they had so strongly yarned.  
A child they seemed to be missing.   
A child...  
Her sister or brother.

But as she stood there and looked at their happy suburban life, she made her mind:   
She had created this reality for them,  
And this life had made them so happy.   
What good would it do if she'd suddenly give them back memories that would just scare and worry them?  
What good was it to take their happiness and make them fit together two lives that didn't really match?

No good

They'd never know they had her  
They'd never miss her   
They'd never worry about her  
Because for them she didn't exist.

So she walks away.  
Again.  
And leaves her parents to live a life they more than deserve!

After a few months she goes to see McGonagall to make sure there's no magical child born for the Wilkins family living in Australia.

There's not.  
She sighs in relief.

Her sibling is non-magical.  
Her parents get to live a normal life never knowing magic even exists.   
They'll never know what she did  
They will never know...

.

.

.

Heavy

She goes back to Hogwarts to rebuild.   
Opens the doors and goes back to where it all happened.

The place makes her feel like doing anything requires double the effort.  
Like there was lead in her system instead of blood.

She was supposed to pick her life back up.   
But here she is...

Here, where the ghosts of war will not leave her alone,   
Here, where she walks past places where her loved ones met their end.

And where she used to be happy  
Where every corner reminds her of the days that will never return.   
Reminds her of Ron.

Where she fought with Ron.  
Where she ran when he made her furious.  
Where she laughed with him...or at him.   
Where he took her hand.  
Where he kissed her, the one last time.

Sometimes it feels like suffocating.  
But she grits her teeth and carries on.   
Because she needs to help!  
She needs to matter!

And she's stronger than this pain!  
She fought a war at seventeen!  
Surely she can take the aftermath.

And the void inside of her just grows bigger.

Most of her friends don't return for rebuilding.  
Harry tells her its just too much for him to take,  
and she does understand.  
She wouldn't have returned either, if she didn't feel like she owed it to someone.

But to who?  
She had no idea.  
Maybe herself?

.

.

.

**Winter -99**

Numb

Kingsley himself offers her a job.   
”Just an office job, some research, to start with. I personally make sure you'll get opportunities to aim higher.”

She tells him a simple office job is exactly what she needs.

It's a good job and it pays better than a simple office job should.   
Not that she needs the money...  
It's simpler than the old her would have liked,  
but she has no ambitions to aim higher.

Day by day, she survives.  
Does the best she can.  
Dives into her research work and deliveries good results.

It's lonely,  
but she rarely is in a mood to talk anyway.

The best part is that she doesn't have to think about anything but the subject she's currently researching.  
She was always good at blocking all else and just read.  
Probably that's the reason she's even able to work at all.

Her colleagues make light conversation with her in the dining hall.  
So she starts to take her lunch with her.  
She has no energy for small talk and gossip,  
But she doesn't want to be rude either.

Most days her lunch stays untouched until the day is due.  
Many days she goes home and is not sure if she has eaten or not.

Then she orders Chinese takeaway...  
Or pizza.  
Any food that doesn't remind her of Hogwarts.  
Any food that doesn't taste like memories.

.

.

.

**Spring -99**

Empty

The growing hours of daylight and the warming rays of sunshine,  
They're supposed to make her feel better.

Isn't she supposed to be happier now that the pressuring greyness of winter has passed?   
Isn't she supposed to start getting her life back?   
Isn't she?

But what is the life she could get back?   
What is there to go back to?

Hogwarts?  
Ron?  
The golden trio?  
Gryffindor?

All gone.  
All passed.  
All unreachable.

She's staring out of the window at some kids playing in the park.   
And the weight of her feels too much to carry.

She doesn't cry anymore.  
Almost like her tears have run out.   
Doesn't memorize any more  
Doesn't dream  
Doesn't...  
Anything.

Goes to work   
And comes home to sit by the window.   
And there's nothing left of her.  
Just this hollow emptiness.

.

.

.

**May the 2nd, 1999**

It's the middle of the night  
A year from when it all happened

And Harry does not pick up his phone.

She's standing in the darkness of her home   
Squeezing the phone against her chest

Harry does not pick up

Tonight of all nights  
Tonight,  
When just hearing him breathe would be enough.

When she just needs the confirmation,   
That what they did was good,  
Was worth it,  
And enough.

But he does not pick up!

And she's falling,  
Through layers and layers of hard ice.  
All the way to the icy cold depths of dark waters   
Suffocating.

Before she knows what's happening,  
she's running,

Through the streets of muggle London with only one place in mind.

Before she gets to think further,  
she’s standing on a bridge.

Trains clank under her  
And she knows where her next step will be:

To emptiness...  
And there'll be no more pain.

”You don't want to do that Granger.”

She startles at the sound of her name.

He's standing there.   
Pale and dark,   
Like an angel of death.

Honestly, she's not really sure if He's real or not.

Because how can he be here?   
No one goes here.

No one muggle  
And even less anyone magical.  
Let alone someone like Him.

She planned to do this here,   
because no one goes here!

”Come on” he's still talking.

Like he was real

”lets go.”   
He takes her hand.

She looks down,  
The Dark Mark, a symbol of death, stares at her.

His Dark Mark and her mudblood scar.

And she thinks this must be a dream.   
So she follows him,

Off the bridge   
Away from oblivion.

Doesn't say a thing when He apparates them back to her door.   
Doesn't ask how he knows where she lives.  
Doesn't wonder how he found her.   
Doesn't even get angry at him for interfering.

Just let's him in.   
Sits on her sofa and stares at her hands.

He doesn't leave like she thought he would.  
But stands on her hallway,  
Silent.

”Do you know what happens to a deer when the train hits it?” he asks after a while.

She says nothing.

”It goes into atoms. Becomes mince.”

He pauses,

”when the train stops its almost impossible to tell what hit it.”

She closes her eyes and draws breath.

”They’d have to bury you in pieces, ”

She never thought of that.   
The pain of others never popped to her head.

”why were you there?” she whispers.  
And finally looks at him.

He shrugs  
Morbidly

”I go there, to think how it would be to jump in front of the train”

”Why something so muggle? Why not do it with magic?”

He shrugs again, ”Why don't you?”

She doesn't know why,   
But she stands up to go stand before him.

”My magic doesn't work right.” she tells him quietly.

Tilts her head up to look at him.  
And it really is Malfoy.  
She wasn't sure until now.

”They took my magic from me.” He says.

And his eyes look right into hers.

”I don't feel anything anymore.” 

She doesn't even know why she's talking.  
Maybe just because he's here.

He huffs, ”I’m banished from the wizarding society.”

His eyes flash  
And something stirs.

”I’m all alone.”

It's starting to feel like a competition.

”Everyone I loved is either in prison or dead.”

”I was ready to jump, ”

”Do you think that was the first time I was on that bridge?”

”You already told me it wasn't.”

This is probably the most words she has said the whole year.

”I just want to feel something else than emptiness!” she whispers silently.

”I can't help you.” He says coldly.

And suddenly it's there.   
Like a whip of fire against her face,

Anger.

”I didn't ask you to!”   
She spits the words out of her mouth.

Her face warms up,  
blood tingles in her fingers.

And because she has nothing to loose  
Nothing to gain  
Nothing to get   
Nothing to give.

And because it's too hard to face this day alive.   
And because he made her feel anger,   
And anger is more than nothing.

She takes a hold of the front of his shirt and slams their lips together.

.

.

.

She has only kissed a handful of boys in her life.

She's a virgin  
Because she saved herself for Ron.

Saved herself  
And Ron went with Lavender  
And then he fucking died!

But she doesn't think about that now.

Now, that he doesn't push her away  
But against the wall.

Now, that she doesn't even try to get rid of him,  
But his clothes.

He's not gentle.  
She doesn't want him to be.

It's not beautiful,  
Not romantic,  
Not healing,  
Or comforting.

But not a cry for help either.

It's a car crash  
A hurricane   
An inferno.

It's emptiness blended with anger.  
Almost violence  
Both ways.

And she doesn't care.

Not about the blood her nails draw from his back,  
Or the hiss he makes when she bites his lip.   
Or the inevitable bang of pain when he pushes into her.

She urges him on   
even when every move feels like she's going to break in two.

There's a sick part of her that wants it.

Wants the pain.   
Because it's other than emptiness.

She pulls his hair and he bites her neck.

When it's over he let's go of her.   
And she slides against the wall to the floor.  
Draws her knees to her chest.  
Closes her eyes.

Hears him leaving the room   
And coming back two seconds later.

”You should have told me,”

She opens her eyes.  
There's blood in his hands.

”I didn't want to,”

She closes her eyes again.   
But he lowers himself on the floor in front of her.  
And when she blinks,  
all she sees are his quicksilver eyes.

Cold   
But not only,  
Not completely...

”You're not right.”

She laughs hollowly, ”neither are you.”

”I didn't try to off myself.”

She just shrugs.

”Are you going to try again when I leave?”

She thinks about it for a while.  
Going back and finally jumping.   
But at the moment the effort feels too much.

”not today.”

He says nothing after that.   
Puts on his clothes and leaves.   
Maybe she should have thanked him...  
But it didn't feel like heroism.

.

.

.

Guilt comes later.  
She's standing in front of her bathroom mirror.  
Staring at the bite marks on her neck.

And suddenly Ron is there...

His face instead of hers in the mirror.   
His blue eyes looking at her  
Like he was angry  
And disappointed.

”Seriously Hermione? Him of all people?”

She can hear him   
Crystal clear   
Like he was really here.

”You could have taken anyone! Gone to bar and hit on someone muggle. But Him!”

She hadn't really thought about it then,   
But picking Draco Malfoy,    
Was like dancing on Ron’s grave.

There was no one worse she could have done it with.  
No one would have made Ron more furious.

”You gave what was mine to Malfoy!?”

She feels the tears before they pour over.

”You’re gone!” She tells him.

And then they come.   
Tears she has been holding back,  
For so long she thought there were none left.

It's not sadness  
But guilt.

She gave away what she saved for him.  
She let him kiss her,   
right on the marks of her last memory of Ron.

Now the only kisses her lips remember are the last ones she got...  
Draco's.

And Ron would have hated it.

The mirror image of Ron stares at her despising

”look what you did.” it whispers.

And she wants to hide,   
Or scream,   
Or throw things.

” You're not here!” she sobs, ”I've got nothing left!”

”Excuses.” Ron spits at her.

”I’m sorry!”

She puts her face against the mirror and sobs, ”I’m sorry! I'm sorry! I just miss you so much!”

And he just stares back like she had crossed one too many lines.  
But at least he's with her again...

.

.

.

Two days later there's a knock at her door.  
Two days later and he's back.

Two days and she hasn't left her home.  
Hasn't gone to work.  
Hasn't answered her phone.  
Doesn't remember eating.

Isn't going to open the door.

”Granger if you won't open I'm going to force myself in!”

Last time his visit brought her Ron.  
Last time...

So she goes to the door and opens.

He pauses mid another knock,  
Bang,  
Hand raised.

For a moment she thinks he's not going to be able to cancel the movement,  
That his fist meant for the door is going to hit her face instead.

She wonders would she be angry then?  
Or just as empty as now.  
As yesterday.  
As always.

”Still here?” He raises an eyebrow.

She shrugs.  
And let's him in.

Some other day she’d wonder why he's back?  
Some other day she’d ask why does he bother?  
Some other day she’d tell him he's not welcome.

This is not that day.

He sits down on her sofa without another word.   
And she looks at him,  
Looking out the window,  
Dressed all in black.

His words from the day before come back to her: ”Everyone I loved is either in prison or dead.”   
And then: ”They took my magic from me.”

He's here because he has nowhere.   
No one.

He's here because he has nothing,   
Because he is nothing.

Like her...

Some other day she’d know it's not healthy,  
Or right   
Or healing.

This is not that day.

So she goes   
Straddles him  
and tears off his clothes.

And he lets her.  
Maybe that was why he came after all.

Some other day she’d care.

But this is not that day,  
Neither is tomorrow,  
Or a week from now,  
Or a month,

Or...

**115 days later**

Time moves  
Nothing changes   
And everything does  
But him

They never agreed on anything   
She never told him to come back   
He never checked she’d be home

But he does   
And she is   
And so it has been   
For weeks  
Months

The blackness is a little easier to stand  
When you know the pattern.

And he brings her Ron  
Because after every fuck Ron's there in her bathroom mirror   
Calling her horrible names   
Blaming her of things she did when he was still alive  
Blaming her of things she does now

Whispering accusations in her ear   
About how she doesn't care anymore  
About how awful it is to avoid the people who love her  
And spend time with Malfoy instead.

Slut  
Bitch  
Whore   
Cheap   
Ignorant   
Pathetic   
Not worthy   
Brightest witch... Bullshit!

And she sits on the floor and cries  
Feeling like she's a glass vase thrown to a hard floor  
Over  
and over  
And over again

She's the cullet crunching in his feet as he stomps

But at least he's here.  
He's hers   
Her secret

Only hers

.

.

.

Draco never asks how she is,  
How her day was?  
How she's doing?

Never wonder aloud why she's crying in the toilet.  
Never bothers her in her grief.

But he's there   
And he's consistent

Every time she opens the door   
It's like there's relief in his eyes   
Like he cared that she's still alive.

He's not her savior   
Far from it

And what they have is not romantic  
Not even with rose-colored glasses   


It's not really a relationship   
They never really talk

He knocks   
She opens   
They fuck   
She goes to the bathroom for Ron to talk her down  
He never leaves before she comes out

But as soon as she has collected herself enough, he goes  
She doesn't mind   
Because he will come back  
At least she can count on that.

He doesn't take the emptiness  
But somehow  
Somehow  
He's standing there With her.

She’d thank him   
But she knows he doesn't really do it for her.

.

.

.

When it feels like too muchShe still walks the streets of muggle London   
Stands on that bridge where trains clank by.  
And thinks how it would feel To be freed.

But she's not sure anymore If jumping would really free her  
Or trap her further.

And then she thinks of Draco   
Knocking at her door  
And finding no one there.

Draco would be alone then.  
Completely alone

Would he come to the bridge then?   
Would he jump?

His blond hair smeared in blood...  
She doesn't like the idea.

So she goes back home   
And opens the door when he knocks.

.

.

.

Ginny gives birth to a son

A son with messy red hair and emerald eyes  
A son of the boy-who-lived  
A son that gives Harry what he never had,  
A family.

She stands in their living room  
And feels like sinking.  
Because when she looks at Harry with a baby in his arms all she feels is jealousy.

James Ronald Sirius.

Harry's eyes sparkle.  
And just by looking at him,   
She knows, He's over Ron dying.

Even when she understands you never really fully get over your best friend dying.

But the worst part for Harry is over.  
He can look back without thinking he's going to fall on his knees every time he thinks of Ron.  
He can say his name without sorrow strangling his throat like he can't breathe.   
He can name his son after him without feeling like his stealing something.

There's happiness in his eyes.  
There's joy in Ginny’s

There's an overflow of love in their house.  
And Molly laughing when the baby curls his fingers around hers.

Life has taken over death.  
They've closed a door of tragedy   
And she's left outside in the blizzard alone.

This is the future she could have belonged with Ron.  
The future she fought a war to have.   
The future she gave her parents   
Her education   
Her everything   
For.

And jealousy makes her feel like she's going to vomit.

She hates herself for it.  
It’s not really their fault!  
But a little nagging noise in the back of her head tells her quietly,”Isn’t it though? It was always their war.”

But she chose to participate!  
She had options

Did she though?

Suddenly she wishes Draco could be there   
Suddenly she glances around  
Like he’d be there   
Standing in the corner eyeing them gloomily

Suddenly she realizes he'd get her  
He'd know how it feels   
He wouldn't judge her for her envy

He'd hold her safety rope  
And prevent her from going under  
Because that's what they did to each other...

.

.

.

It's already late  
She's sitting on her sofa staring in the darkness

He didn't come today  
She doesn't want to be disappointed   
Doesn't want to care  
Wants to ignore the feeling she misses him

Maybe it's because she misses Ron  
And he has a way to bring Ron to her.

That must be it.

It's over midnight  
She's still on the sofa  
And he knocks.

But tonight   
Tonight's the night she breaks the pattern.  
Doesn't get up

The door is open  
If he wants to he can come in.

She's too spent to get up and go to the door.  
There's nothing she can give him tonight.  
But secretly she hopes he'll come in anyway.

He does.

”What happened?”

He knows something is different today

It's been the same for months  
He knows change means something.

He doesn't come close to her   
Stays in the doorway   
But he asks

So she tells him, ”Harry had a son.”

He waits for her to continue   
She turns to look at him.

”I can't be happy for him! I stand in there and the house is so full of love it's pouring out the windows. And all I can feel is Jealousy!”

She's almost shouting.  
Almost crying   
Almost desperate

But only almost.

He's still silent.

”All I want is to be a part of that love! I want to feel happy for them! I want to look at their child and feel the overflowing happiness and love they all feel! I want to be proud that their child can live in a good, safe world because of what we did!”

She goes to stand before him,”But I don't! I'm just bitter and sad and angry and envious! And then I feel awful and then I realize it's not about me. That I'm selfish on top of everything.”

She should shut up!

”I’m in the middle of people I'm supposed to love the most and I find myself wishing you'd be there! Because at least then there'd be someone there who's soul is as dark as mine! At least someone would know what I'm thinking about and wouldn't judge me!”

She should shut the fuck up!

”I want to be something else than this bitter awful person!”

”you’re not” he whispers so quietly it's not probably meant to be heard.

That's it   
This is how she breaks down  
This is how she falls

”Draco...” she takes a step closer.  
Knows it's a bad idea   
Knows it's not fair for him   
Or herself.

Knows it's emotionless and wrong  
Knows it might just make her worse   
And still lifts her hand to caress his arm  
Still leans to whisper in his ear

”I want to pretend....just this once...”

She takes a breath   
Hopes it comes out as seductive,

”just for tonight...?”   
Could you hold me like you loved me? 

She's not sure if she said it aloud.   
Or just thought it in her mind and hoped he'd understand. 

He doesn't answer, but leans a little further to look at her.  
His eyes unreadable.

She's sure he's going to tell her not to be stupid.  
He doesn't,  
But kisses her   
Different than ever before

Pulls her close  
Buries his hands to her hair   
Surrounds her with heat.

...Guess it's a yes? 


	2. The Lightest Hours

**Part 2: The Lightest Hours  
**

  
With his hands  
his touch  
His lips  
his kisses  
Come colors

Sprays of rainbow exploding beyond her eyelids

She’s not sure what happened  
Not sure what she asked for that night.  
Not sure what he heard.  
What meaning he found in her words.

‘Just this once’ she’d said.  
‘I want to pretend…’ She’d whispered.

After the first two kisses she realizes she’s not really pretending.

And neither is he.

After first caresses she realizes it’s not meaningless.  
It’s more than just coping.  
and more than an outlet.

Suddenly she doesn’t remember the envy,  
the coldness,  
the bitterness,  
the sorrow.

For a brief moment, she feels.  
Her heartbeat on her ears.  
And his under her fingers.

They’re both here.  
They’re both alive.

Alive...

That night  
as he carries her to the bedroom.  
Where they’ve never been before.

That night,  
between her white sheets,  
she lets him kiss her on the lips  
and something shifts.  
.  
.  
.

She jolts up into the sprays of sunshine from her window.

He groans next to her.

The sun draws light patterns on his skin as she turns to look.  
And he’s still there.

Still in her bed.  
Fair skin and white sheets  
and sunbeams.

There’s a flutter in her heart, she doesn’t recognize.

She goes to the bathroom.  
And only when she’s standing beside her mirror does she realize,  
there’s only one face, Hers…

Ron…Ron’s not there.  
She didn’t come to him last night.

An image of silver eyes, dark with desire, flashes her mind.  
Arms around her hips as she fell asleep.

She looks at the mirror again.  
“I’m sorry.” She whispers silently.

Leans closer to the frames and looks at her own eyes.  
Hazel  
not a sign of blue.  
“I’m sorry, but I have to let you go now.”

He’s sitting on the bed as she exits the bathroom.  
Still undressed.

She halts to the doorframe.  
He looks up.  
Suddenly it’s like there’s an empty space in between them.  
Like the way to him is much shorter than it used to be.

“What is it?” He asks.  
He never asks.  
Today he does…

She feels the darkness around her.  
Senses it’s swirling edges on her ankles.  
And flares that lick her wrists like flames.

“He’s gone.” She breathes out.

Feels like falling.  
Like the darkness calls for her.  
It’s what she knows.  
Familiar.

He shifts on the bed,  
and she takes a step.  
The darkness whiffs like smoke on her feet.

One step,  
Then two  
Three.

four,five,six

Strong arms wrap around her.  
And she’s crying against his chest.

For all the times she was alone,  
He’s with her now,  
and the darkness stays put.  
Doesn’t swallow her whole,  
For the first time since Ron fell.

.  
.  
.

Eventually he leaves.  
But also comes back.

Fucking to survive turns into something…  
more.

He still knocks.  
And she lets him in.

Lets him in...  
Her house,  
Her bedroom,  
Her…

But also her life  
her heart, maybe?

The darkness is still there.  
Still dulling her senses.  
Still drawing her away from Harry and the others.

In the late hours of her lonely nights,  
she feels it calling for her.  
But it’s not a void anymore… not so swallowing anymore.  
Not pulling her under anymore.

There’s a bottom…  
or a surface,  
and she can almost see it.

The ghost of Ron doesn’t come back.  
Sometimes there’s a flash of blue eyes in her mirror.  
But when she takes a second look, it’s gone again.

Draco, on the other hand, does come back.  
Starts to sit on her sofa  
Starts to ask her how her day was.  
Starts to meet her eyes as he speaks.  
Starts to kiss her on the lips.  
and take her to bed.

She doesn’t stop him.

Most nights he stays ‘till the morning.

It’s still not a relationship,  
maybe.

They still know next to nothing about each other's lives outside of her apartment.  
She has no idea what he does when he leaves.  
How he spends his days?  
Is she the only human contact he has?  
Does he still think about jumping from the bridge?

She doesn’t dare to ask.

When she goes to see Harry and Ginny and James, she starts to picture him with her.  
Starts to remark things to him in her head.  
Visualizes him answering.

It makes everything easier.

In the evenings she tells him what she speculated.  
And he looks mildly amused.  
She likes it…

After weeks of this new routine she asks him, “Where are your friends?”

He turns to her with an unreadable look.  
  
“You told me everyone is either in prison or dead. But your housemates? Pansy?”

“Pansy’s dead.” He grumbles, eyes downcast.

“I’m sorry.”

He huffs, “As sorry as I’m for Weasley?”

Silence follows his words.  
Silence, where the names of the people they loved as teens, hang between them.

“No. As sorry as I can be about the fact that your friend is gone.” She pauses, “As sorry as I can be that she died so young.”

She takes his hand.  
He doesn’t look at her, but doesn’t pull back either.

“It’s part of my punishment. I’m not allowed to meet anyone. Even if the’re alive.”

She hopes she’d asked sooner.

“For how long?”

“Five years.”

Worse than she thought

Five years without magic  
and without friends.

Harsh…  
Worse than he deserved.

“How do you stand it?”

He says nothing.  
Meets her eyes and shakes his head.

As bad as her.  
Nothing… like her.

She makes the first move.  
Reaches for him and he catches her.

It’s an embrace.  
Warm  
And soft  
and comforting.

A promise to be there for each other.

.  
.  
.

She’s glaring at the papers on her desk.  
Papers, that have been her refuge.

Looks out of the small window,  
to the road outside.  
The street that a few months ago felt too wide,  
too much.  
To the world that was suffocating her back then.

They should go to the bridge…  
Her and Draco.  
They should go and close that door.

They’re ready for it.  
She knows they are.  
Neither was going to jump anymore.

She should take him there.

But she doesn’t get to.

It’s the determination in her step.  
The sun on the sky  
or the busy street.

She’s not paying enough attention entering the muggle parkway.  
The car comes out of nowhere.  
There’s nothing she could have done once she’d already stepped.

BANG

.  
.  
.

She blinks.

There’s a worried face above her.  
“Oh Dear, are you alright?” A kind looking lady is asking.

She blinks again.

She’s alive?

The moment the car hit her she was sure this was it.  
She was going to die.  
Run over by a car the very day she had decided life was probably still worth living.

She was going to die  
and he was going to be alone.  
Sucked back into the darkness maybe?

She was going to go  
before she even got to thank him.  
before she got to tell him what he meant to her. 

She was going to leave him  
Like Ron left her.

She tries to get up, but people around her tell her to stay put.  
The ambulance is coming.  
Her head feels a little fuzzy.

But she’s alive!  
Sun has never felt better on her skin.

She’s taken to the hospital.  
Nothing’s broken.  
The doctor tells her they want to keep her under observation for a few hours.  
She nods.

Does she want to call someone? They ask.  
She shakes her head, no.

Who would she call?  
Harry or Ginny?  
No, they had enough trouble with an uneasily sleeping baby.  
Draco?  
Did he even have a phone?

No, there was no one she could call.  
She was fine on her own.

They give her a bed on the hospital hallway  
Medication for pain  
And a magazine to read.

She’s fine on her own…  
FINE!  
She’s not alone.  
If she wanted to she could have called Harry and he would have come for her.  
If she wanted there was someone for her!  
...wasn’t there?

After two hours she’s alarmed by loud noises.  
Someone yelling.

The door to the hallway bursts open.  
And then there’s a man.  
Tall and dangerous looking.  
A man she knows.  
Walking along the corridor with hasty steps.  
His long black coat flowing behind him like he’s wearing a robe.

The nurse tries to get him to stop.  
But he acts like she’s not even there.

She sits up on her bed.  
Locks eyes with him across the corridor.

He stops next to the bed.

The nurse says something.  
But neither of them hear her.  
Suddenly there are only the two of them.

Only her and this desperately fierce-looking man ahead of her.

She’s not alone.  
Not anymore.

“Are you hurt?” He’s whispering.  
Low and tight, like he’s gritting his teeth.

She shakes her head, still holding his eyes.  
“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Is what she says.

At that the look on his face melts  
and it seems like he lets out a breath,  
“I know.”

And then she’s in his arms.  
Held to his chest, against his wildly beating heart.  
And his face is in her hair, almost like he’s inhaling her.

“Do not ever do that to me again!” He breathes against her hair.

She takes a hold of his jacket and pulls him closer.  
Shakes her head against him, “I won’t”

He’s here for her.  
Because of her.  
He came for her.  
He’d had no idea where she was,  
He’d looked for her!?  
He’s here for her!

He stays with her for the rest of the day.  
Sits on her bed and ignores the disapproving looks from the nurses.   
Doesn’t talk much, but studies her like she might suddenly collapse.

“I’m fine Draco!” She tells him after hours of silent inspection.

“Can’t be sure.” He mutters.

“We’re in a hospital. What do you think will happen they can’t fix?”

“A muggle hospital!” He hisses, “Only so much they can do here! One sign of you getting worse and I’m taking you to Mungo’s”

She’s not even sure if that’s possible.  
If he’s allowed close enough to the magical hospital to get her there.  
But only him planning to do that.  
Only him being here…

She takes his hand.  
He glances at her.

“Thank you.” She whispers silently.

Thank you for being here  
Thank you for getting me off the bridge  
Thank you for coming back  
again and again  
Thank you for being constant  
Thank you for not asking for anything  
Thank you for staying  
and leaving  
Thank you for standing beside me in the dark  
Thank you for following me on the way to the light.

He squeezes her hand.  
“I can’t lose you too.”

She’s not sure if she’s supposed to hear his words.  
But she does.  
and they signify everything.

“You won’t” She tells him.

She means it!

.  
.  
.  
  
For the next three days he doesn’t leave  
Stays at her apartment  
and treats her like she’s fragile.

He never treated her like she’s fragile before.  
Even when she was a lot more fragile than she’s now.  
She’s not sure if she likes it or not.

But when he sits next to her on the sofa,  
takes the book she’s reading from her hands,  
And starts to read aloud.  
She agrees she likes it.

Puts her head against his shoulder and closes her eyes.  
Wraps herself in his warmth and allows his voice lull her to sleep.

When she comes to again, he’s stroking her hair absentmindedly.

“What do you do when you’re not here?” She finally asks.

And he tells her.  
At first nothing much.  
Then he watched people.  
Sat on a coffee shop and studied muggles.  
Just to have a pattern.

“I followed you… when you went to that bridge.” He says, “Not just that time you tried to leap. Many times before that too.”

Vaguely she wonders if she should be freaked out by his confession.  
But she’s not.

“I was almost as done for, as you were, that day.”

That day.  
The day she tried to jump.

He didn’t only save her.  
But himself too.  
Or maybe she saved him.  
Maybe it was faith...

In the night she curls against him in her bed.  
“You could stay here, you know?”  
The words are out before she can stop them.

He’s silent for so long she thinks she should take it back.

But his silence never meant no.  
It doesn’t this time either.

He stays.

And the darkness shifts ever further.

.  
.  
.

They go to the bridge.  
Stand on the edge,  
His hand on hers.

A light wind catches her hair and blows it to her face.  
She inhales.

They’re alive.  
Living…  
not just surviving to another day.

All else might be gone.

Who they were.  
What made them what they were.  
Who they considered as their people.  
What they knew of life.

All of that might have changed.  
Forced to be let go of,  
or thrown away by will.

Everything that made her Hermione Granger  
and him Draco Malfoy.  
Had been reshaped.  
Ripped to pieces.  
Thrown into the wind.  
and then collected back by shaking hands.

And now it was up to them to glue it back together.

“I didn’t save you, for you.” He tells her later.

“I know you didn’t.”

“I didn’t come back for you.”

She knows that too.

“Or I thought I didn’t.” He mutters, barely hearable.

“I know.” She settles her hand on his cheek, “I didn’t let you in for you.”

“I didn’t even feel sorry for you.”

His eyes blaze.

“For the first months, all I thought about was Ron.”

“I know.” It’s his turn to tell him.

Her hand is still on his cheek.

“I was scared to realize I missed you.”

“Likewise.”

“I cast off my friends to be with you.”

“I didn’t pretend when you asked me to.”

“I know.” She says.

He kisses her.

She tugs him to her.

Takes a final kick,  
bursts through the surface.  
  
And there’s only light.  
Only sunshine.  
And rainbow hues.

.  
.  
.

The gloom leaves their house.  
The shadows in the walls take another step back.

She goes to the Weasleys for dinner,  
and gets through it without tumbling back down.  
Looks at Harry’s family, and doesn’t feel envious.

Sad? Yes  
Sad, that she somehow lost Harry along with Ron.  
Lost the bond they had.  
The devotion that made her stay in a cold, damp tent in the middle of a forest, for weeks.  
Made her risk her life,  
and give up everything.

It slipped through her hands as the darkness passed.  
And what’s left of her doesn’t belong here.

The door of tragedy before her, never opened again.  
But she turned away and found solace in the blizzard.

She looks up the stairs of the Burrow.  
Remembers Ron coming down, sunkissed and smiling.  
The flutter in her heart when his hand brushed her fingers.

There’s one more gate she has to close.  
One more phantom to leave behind.

She climbs up to his room.  
Opens the door.  
It creaks silently.

Chudley Cannons zoom in the posters on the walls.  
One tosses the quaffle through the hoops and the team cheers.

A boy lived in this room.  
A lively, goofy, cheerful boy.  
A boy she loved.  
A boy that never got to grow up to be a man.

She stands in the middle of his room.  
With only memories as company.  
Not ghosts.  
Not anymore.

There’s a picture of the three of them on the night table.  
Three kids laughing.  
Gryffindor scarves around their necks.  
Frozen in a loop of time.

She smiles at the image sadly.  
and puts it in her bag.

That’s how she wanted to remember them.  
Remember him.  
As kids on an adventure.  
Happy and carefree.

That’s the only loop she wants to see him in.  
Not in a nightmare, Falling to his demise again and again.  
But laughing in some insignificant day,  
only like a child can laugh.

“I think it’s time they redecorated this room.”  
Harry’s on the door.  
Scanning her.

She nods, “Me too.”

“Who is it Hermione?”

She turns to him.  
His emerald eyes are serious.  
and he looks nothing like the boy in the picture she just saw.

They gaze at each other across the room.  
The-Boy-Who-Lived  
And The-Brightest-Witch-Of-Her-Age  
All grown up.

How many times have they shared secrets in this room?  
How many times have they laughed in here?  
How many times planned the future?  
How many times been there for each other?

Who is it, he asks.  
And she’s going to tell him.

Here, in the middle of the room where she still can feel Ron’s presence.  
She’s going to tell Harry.  
And Ron…  
And she’ll never regret it.

“It’s Draco Malfoy.”

She doesn’t whisper.  
Isn’t sorry for it.  
Isn’t ashamed.  
They deserve to know.

“He saved me.” She continues before Harry gets to interrupt, “I... I think I love him.”

There’s a heavy pause.

“I think he loves me too.” She whispers.

The Cannons cheer again on the wall.

Harry stares at her.  
Like he’s struck to shocked silence.  
The silence that hums in her ears.

Once upon a time she would have been scared of his reaction.  
Once upon a time she’d wished for something else than silence.  
Once upon a time she’d pleaded with him to understand.

But how can she, because she barely understands it herself?

“Hermione, are you...are you alright?”

Now he asks!?  
Now, after almost two years, he asks?!  
Although she does understand that maybe he wasn’t alright enough to ask before.

She shakes her head, “No...but it’s getting better.”

“Ron would have hated it… You with Malfoy.”

“You think I don’t know that?”  
Might as well tell him everything.  
“For the first months, Ron was all I could think about! I started things with Draco, because the guilt he made me feel brought me Ron! I used to imagine him in my bathroom mirror, Harry!”

She blinks away tears, “I used to imagine him telling me what a horrible person I was. What a pathetic excuse of a human being. How, everytime I let Draco touch me, I violated his memory.”

She takes a step closer to her best friend, “I can’t keep living like that! It’ll kill me! It almost already did. The guilt was the only thing that kept me hanging on! At least then I felt something!!”

“Hermione, Don’t.”

“Don’t what? It’s the truth. If not for Draco, I would not be here!”

“So you decided it’s your duty to save him?”

“No! I did not save him. I wasn’t well enough to save anyone! I don’t think you noticed Harry, but there was nothing left of me! I was nothing!”

Harry doesn’t say a word to that.

“I loved Ron for years! I don’t even think you knew how much! How much of my plans for the future were based on him! Me with him and you with Ginny. He was never supposed to die!” She’s almost shouting, “But he did! And now he’s gone and I have to let him go!”

She pauses, “I want to let him go! I want to remember him like he was when he lived! True and effortless and kind. That’s why I came here today, to memorize him like he was! To finally move on!”

“With Malfoy?”

“With myself!” She almost spits out.

There’s fire inside of her.  
Fire that has been subdued for so long.  
The same fire that once made her want to prove herself.  
Made her sit in the library for endless hours.  
Made her break the rules.  
Made her lead Umbridge to the forbidden forest.  
Made her protect the ones she loved.

It makes her cheeks heat up  
And her fingers tingle.

“I don’t need you to approve of him, Harry! I don’t need your blessing! I loved Ron, but Ron is GONE! And now Draco’s here and he’s nothing like Ron. But I love him! Really and truly do! And if he wants to stay I’ll keep him! And if you have faith in me like you used to, you’ll accept this too!”

When she entered this room she wasn’t sure.  
She had only started to think what she felt might be love.  
But now, yelling it out to Harry, she’s suddenly sure,  
She loves Draco!  
With all the darkness and all the light.

And without a doubt, she knows he loves her too.

She leaves the room without another word.  
Goes with all the memories.  
Closes the last door from the darkness.  
Steps down the stairs with the memory of him.  
Walks through the dining room, brushing her fingers along the chair he used to sit in.  
Out the door to the porch where he looked at her with awe in the morning of Bill’s and Fleur’s wedding.  
Walks through the yard, past the spot he held her close as they danced under fairy lights.

Behind her the ghost of him fades.  
Waves her goodbye  
and laughs like he always did.

She smiles.  
And with a faint pop,  
apparates home.

Draco is just exiting the shower as she enters the room.  
White towel around his hips.  
Hair wet and messed.  
Stops as he realizes her there.

He is perfect.  
And he’s hers!

She wants to laugh with sheer joy.

“I love you!” She tells him.  
Loud and clear.  
Words coming straight from her heart.

She can almost see the light that surrounds them.  
Almost feel it pulsing like the dark did before.  
Sense it wrapping her soul into an air-light fluff

He’s stotic.  
Frozen in place.  
But there’s a twinkle in his eyes.

“And I think you love me too.” She continues.

There’s something in her tone.  
Something she didn’t remember she had.  
Almost like an order.

There’s a change in his features.  
Like a smile tugging his lips.

He comes to stand before her.  
His nose only inches from hers.  
His breath hot on her face.

He has practically been living with her for months now.  
And still her heart speeds up.

“When were you ever wrong?” He whispers.

She puts her palm against his naked chest,  
Bores her eyes into his “Not this time.”

There’s nothing subtle in the way her lips meet his.  
Nothing hesitant in the way she drowns into him.

No one’s memory hanging in the air as she backs him up to the bedroom.  
And lets his towel drop on the way.

His well built body under her fingers.  
And his hands on the curves of her figure.  
His lips drawing maps on her skin.

And the past.  
All of it.  
Is just a memory.

.  
.  
.

He gets a job from a bookstore down the road.  
She’s so proud of him she thinks she’s going to burst.

It’s summer.  
and he looks better,  
healthier she’s ever seen him look.

She takes out the seventh-year textbooks.  
First he doesn’t even want to look at them.  
Sticks into muggle novels.  
But eyes her reading every now and then.

Maybe he thinks she doesn’t notice.

After days, he gives up.  
Snatches a potions book from her hands.

“I was reading that!” She tells him half irritated, half amused.

“For the seventh time.” He huffs, “My turn.”

She smiles secretly and gets herself another book.

Sometimes, as she looks at him,  
Sitting on a sofa, buried in a muggle classic,  
She wonders what would have happened if they’d met before?  
If they’d found each other at Hogwarts?  
Or did they need the darkness to drown them?  
Did they need to almost die to be reborn as the people they are now?

And what happens when he gets his magic back?  
What happens when he needs to rearrange the life he’s been forced to leave behind?

“Are you happy here?” She asks him in bed one evening.

He bends to her.  
“I’m not sure I know what it means to be happy.” He caresses the side of her face, “But I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

“Not even if you had your magic?”

“Granger.” His voice is deep. Like resonating through her whole soul.

“I’m going to say something, just once. Don’t ever ask me to repeat it.” He takes a deep breath, “The day a car hit you on the street. When you didn’t come home as you were supposed to. When I called the hospital and heard you’ve been taken there…”

He pauses.  
“I’ve never feared for anyone more than that day. Not even when the Dark Lord threatened to kill me and my parents. There was no doubt, I would have given anything to see you unharmed. I would have lived my whole life without magic, if that’s what it took to save you.”

She blinks and only then notices there are tears in her eyes.  
He takes her hand in his.  
His long fingers lacing with hers.

“I’d rather live one day with you and forever without magic. Than forever with magic but the rest of my life without you.”

She pushes closer, her nose against his, “Well, I’d like to think I know what it means to be happy. And I’m happy.”

.  
.  
.

Maybe it's the happiness that messes with her head.  
Or maybe she's just stupid,   
or Ignorant.

She doesn't know where the error happened.  
But she knows what it means when she’s on her knees on the bathroom floor.  
Heaving her breakfast down the toilet.

She knows what it means when her cycle is a week late.  
She knows what it means when the smells in the cafeteria make her want to hurl again.  
She knows what it means when she falls to the bed after a day at work, so exhausted she could sleep a month.

She knows.

Her hands shake as she takes the test out of the carton.  
The five minutes she has to wait for the reault, feel like a lifetime.

She knows what the outcome is going to be as she turns the test around.  
But the two red lines still make her tumble on the sofa.

She sits there, staring at the lines.  
God knows how long.  
Isn’t sure how she should feel.  
What he’s going to say?

She’s still on the sofa  
the test on the table before her, when he comes home.

“What’s the matter?” He asks instantly.

She just looks at him.  
Numbly.

What if he’s going to freak out and leave?  
They never talked about the future.  
Never planned anything.  
What if she’s going to force something upon him he doesn’t want?

He lowers himself on his knees before her.  
Takes her hands in his.

“What is it?”

She’s not sure if the words come out.  
Not sure if her lips even move.

  
“I’m pregnant.”

Time stops.  
His hands are warm over hers.  
And his silver eyes shine.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers.

“What for?” His voice has that tight tone to it again.

“For being careless. For forcing this upon you.” She thinks she’s going to cry.

“But not for… for the outcome?”

She shakes her head.

He takes her face in between his hands.   
“Good. Cause neither am I.”

He kisses her.  
Light and...loving.

Puts his forehead against hers and tells her,  
“It’s going to be alright. I’m going to take care of you. Both of you.”

A wet chuckle escapes her lips.  
And she kisses him again.  
With lips, salty from her tears.

“I love you.” He hums against her lips.

.  
.  
.

She’s born on a day when the sun makes fresh snow glitter.  
Born with blond curls on her forehead.

Born in a muggle hospital.  
Although her father kept telling every other minute how it was completely insane to let her be born here.

But then she twists her tiny fingers around his and he goes silent.

And her mother watches with a secret smile,  
how those little fingers curl around his heart too.

And the room is filled with light.  
Rising from tiny hands and feet,  
circling around the walls.  
Zooming in from every window.  
Making everything sparkle with colors.

He takes her hand and pulls her closer.  
Kisses her forehead lightly,

and whispers “I think I know now how happiness is supposed to feel.”

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inspiration for this fic came from a Finnish song, Silta(The bridge) by the band Happoradio.  
> I took the liberty to translate it for you to get an idea what it’s about. Hope I did it justice: 
> 
> Silta(the Bridge) by Happoradio
> 
> You can paint the walls all black   
> Or break down in the morning rush  
> You can believe the spring won't come anymore  
> And Wear a black wail in your hair
> 
> But longing is a leaking load  
> It gets lighter over time  
> Yet you have to carry it through
> 
> I can be the bridge  
> Built with steady logs   
> I can be the bridge  
> Leading over dark waters  
> But it's you who has to take the steps  
> You who needs to survive the tears   
> Because all I can do   
> Is to be the bridge
> 
> Sorrow is the weight on your ankles  
> It drowns you if you fall  
> Sorrow is the five hardest steps in your life  
> And your knees already weak 
> 
> But longing is a leaking load  
> It gets lighter over time  
> Yet you have to carry it through
> 
> I can be the bridge  
> Built with steady logs   
> I can be the bridge  
> Leading over dark waters  
> But it's you who has to take the steps  
> You who needs to endure the tears   
> Because all I can do   
> Is to be the bridge
> 
> We need to keep moving  
> Keep our eyes on what's ahead  
> Focus on the shore  
> Stay in the light
> 
> Thank you for reading!   
> Hope you liked it! ❤️


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